Barely A Memory

Chapter 9

Stefan took a seat in the chair farthest away from her, averting his gaze. "I read about you in one of my journals. And I had this dr—I've been feeling like something, maybe someone, was missing." He bit his lip. "It's hopeless, I know, but, um, I was kind of hoping that it was you."

Katherine raised her eyebrows. This day had just gotten much more interesting. Not only was Stefan vulnerable and lacking memories, but he also wanted to rekindle his old flame with her? Now that was definitely something she was capable of doing. Sitting up, she eyed him, her gaze intense. "You were acting awfully intimate when you thought I was Elena."

Stefan shook his head, forcing a sad smile. "Something happened with her, but whatever it was, it's over. She's a friend. I think maybe whatever I felt for her was..."

He trailed off when Katherine began to saunter over to him. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and licked her lips slowly, in that enticing way where he had no other choice but to watch. "Because of me? Whatever you felt for her was because she looks like me."

Katherine noticed the way Stefan's chest expanded, the way his eyes got a little wider. "Yeah, maybe..." As he spoke, she pulled herself onto his lap, her thighs on both sides of his hips. He gasped, and she simply smiled, caressing his timid and unsure face.

"Well, Stefan," Katherine began, trailing her nails against the inside of his forearm with just enough pressure to make his eyelids a bit heavier in relaxation. "I have to say, you and I have not been getting along recently. In fact, when we last left off, you said you hated me."

Craving Katherine's fiery contact and aching to feel something other than whatever it was he felt for Elena, Stefan breathed out, "Maybe I lied."

She leaned closer, and he knew that she was teasing now. "Maybe you didn't."

Stefan clenched his jaw; this woman's body was a weapon and she knew it. Katherine was alluring and consuming and the most irrational part of him wanted to lose himself in all of it. If Katherine Pierce's body was fire, then maybe he'd endure the burns. He wanted to feel the burn of her kiss, feel it just like he'd felt in his dream.

"I don't feel hate towards you now," he responded steadily.

Katherine leaned so close that he could feel her tempting, hot breath tickling his lips. "What do you feel, Stefan?" She was playing with him, seeing just how far he would go, and he hated how much control she had over him. And when she closed her eyes, Stefan closed his and waited for the wildfire to erupt.

She kissed him, and it was definitely not lacking in passion and lust. Stefan reached up and gripped her face roughly, trying to pull her closer. In this moment, he was a drowning man, so close to reaching the surface of the water. And although he was well aware of the immense heat radiating through every nerve, Stefan's mind and heart were elsewhere. No matter how roughly his lips collided with Katherine's, how close he held her or how heated the moment got, the sense of love from his dream... it was not there. In his dream, the girl had given him a quick rush replete with passion, love, lust, accomplishment, pride, and acceptance. Kissing Katherine felt like a cheap cop-out.

Stop thinking, he thought to himself, and he pulled Katherine a little closer, briefly distracted by the heat of her body against his. Desire surged between them. Maybe if he kissed her hard enough, held her close enough, the intensity of their moment would distract him. Maybe, just maybe, the love he so desperately craved would eventually surface. Although giving into the heat was easy, he couldn't shake the emptiness inside of his chest. Stefan finally realized that he was digging for a treasure that was nowhere to be found.

When Katherine had first walked into his life again, Stefan was not experiencing love. He had been experiencing delusional teenage lust. So, finally, he pulled away, breathless and dissatisfied.

The chiming of the doorbell echoed through the house, snapping them both out of the panting haze they were both in. Stefan turned his head to the door.

"Let them ring," Katherine turned his head back around and went in for another steamy kiss. Suddenly feeling tired and dirty, Stefan gently pushed her away and made his way to the door.

With a small sigh, Stefan opened the main doors and was met with Elena's soft brown eyes. A sense of happiness rushed through his veins at the sight of her, and his heart started to beat again.

This was what Elena was supposed to look like. She was dressed in flaring blue jeans and converse and a long-sleeve t-shirt... and she was beautiful. She didn't need stilettos or heavy makeup; she just needed to be Elena. And suddenly, for the first time all day, he felt good, all because Elena Gilbert, the real Elena Gilbert, was standing on his doorstep. They exchanged gentle smiles, but Stefan was puzzled when her gentle demeanor soon changed. Her expression transformed into something much more tense when she stared at his chest, so Stefan looked down too. Dear god, Katherine had ripped the top of his shirt open. His hair was a mess too...
"Elena," he pleaded, not quite sure exactly how to tell her about what he'd been up to all day.

She looked at him, waiting for an explanation. Just as Stefan opened his mouth to speak, someone else interrupted him.

"Hello, Elena." Behind him, Katherine stood smugly with cat-like poise, looking just as messy as him. She smirked proudly, placing a possessive hand on Stefan's shoulder.

Elena looked between the two of them, anger and jealousy bubbling deep in the pit of her stomach. Stefan wanted to step out to her and say something comforting, but Katherine's strong hold was keeping him in place. He was sick with guilt. He said Elena's name again, but she was not looking at him. Her seething eyes were set on her doppelganger.

"Katherine," she hissed out.

Elena was not going to let Katherine storm into town and ruin everything again.

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